Collection: Tanika Davis' columns

My little (42-year-old) cousin had his first child at age 20 and his second at 21. Next year, he and his wife are planning a trip of a lifetime together, trekking through Nepal and Bhutan. For a month. I had my boys at 36 and my daughter at 38. Next year, my husband and I are planning a week in...

Last week, Facebook reminded me that I wrote my inaugural parenting column for this newspaper four years ago this month. My first essay, with the headline “Ray Rice, my sons — and my daughter,” came pouring out of my mother-of-three heart after the shocking video of domestic abuse at the hands...

Motherhood changes you. This is a refrain pregnant women or new mothers will hear quite often. Sometimes the statement — usually coming from another, more experienced mother — is even bigger: Motherhood, they’ll say, changes everything. For me, the warnings came so often, they became like background...

Summer has arrived! After 14 months of winter and three days of spring, the temperatures have hit blistering, and the humidity is hanging over us like a mushroom cloud. It also means that I am spending an inordinate amount of time desperately searching for summer camps to fill all the weeks my...

Two months ago in this column, I referenced a startling study that painted a bleak picture of the outsize role race plays in the lives of black boys in this country. The sweeping study, which analyzed earnings and demographic data for nearly all Americans in their 30s, found that black boys who...

The doorbell rang and our three little ones went tearing down the stairs: “Nana!” they yelled. “Granddad!” In the foyer, my mother bent to squeeze them and sing-song their names; her bracelets jingled like trilling birds. The boys doled out their awkward head-butt hugs. (Side note: Why do little...

The other day I was talking to my boys about their futures. At 7-and-a-half, their interests are wild and varied. One day, they want to be president of the United States; the next, they want to make a living working at the treasure-filled dollar store. So I wasn’t at all surprised when my firstborn...

Each day, I send my children out the door and watch my husband pull off in the car to take them to school. I close the door, grateful for the quiet, and continue the ordinary to-dos of the morning – showering, makeup, a hasty response to an email that just can’t wait. I don’t usually think much...

The children have ripped through the presents, leaving cardboard shreds and plastic packaging all over the house. The war-torn area under the tree has become yet another spot in the house that needs daily tending. Sweet potato pies are now sweet potato crumbs, though the tins remain – sad, shiny...

I hustled into the Merritt Athletic Club with my three children in tow, pleased that we were on time(ish) for the second birthday party and fourth kid-related event of the day. My plan was to drop off the twin boys and take my kindergartner with me to pick up beverages and snacks for the guests...